I recently read “My Freshman Year” by Rebekah Nathan. Ms. Nathan (which is a pseudonym) is an anthropology professor who undertook a rather unusual task: she enrolled as an over-aged freshman student at a college to observe, professionally, a most intriguing cultural subset: the American college student. She took the study seriously, and she used her anthropological training to good use.

As an observer, she discovered many things that should be apparent to the typical college student, but surprising to her as a professor. As an educator, she thought that assigned reading would lead students to different viewpoints. As a “freshman,” though, she soon discovered that when you juggle four classes, extracurricular activities, and a part-time job, there is just no time to ever open a book. As an educator, she thought that classroom silence came from the typical fear of asking questions. Instead, she discovered that an invisible force — the pressures of “equality” — that prevented intellectual discussions. Students who ask questions (e.g., prize students) are seen as being arrogant — yet if everyone remains silent (except to ask questions about tests and exams), then everyone’s on the same playing field, intellectually.

From a student’s standpoint, there were several eye-opening revelations for me, too. I once used to brag that I could get through college, with only four hours of sleep a night. Ms. Nathan heard the same boasts, too. She noticed, though, that college students tended to schedule classes at later times (around 11 am) just to get some extra sleep. And all that jazz about individuality? You ever notice how dorm room door art practically tries to say “I’m an eccentric and fun nonconformist,” and yet all those decorations are the same — friendship and love on women’s doors, violence and humorous cartoons on men’s doors?

The findings might be anomalous. However, I’ve been a student at two colleges, and I know one thing: her observations of college life feels right.

Which brings me to today’s Webcomic Overlook review, Tyler Page’s slice-of-life comic Nothing Better. I’ve heard some criticisms that it makes college seem too antisceptic, too squeaky clean. Yet, while reading the comic, its observations about college life … they feel right.

“Nothing Better” reads like a printed comic book. Each story arc — which last for several pages — is contained in an issue that includes a color cover. The artwork is somewhat unique for a slice-of-life comic. I typically see these stories illustrated manga-style. A nice change of pace, huh? Mr. Page is trying something else … something more old-school. In fact, it looks like something straight out of Doonesbury.

It’s nice to see a different style, even if it isn’t altogether successful. Page excels with crowded scenes and panoramic landscapes, for example. He also does a good job with the character designs, and it’s easy to identify characters we haven’t seen in an issue or two. However, at times the body language seems a little stiff and unnatural. I noticed this to be an issue with earlier pages, though … and now that I think of it, it seems to be more an issue with some of the socially awkward side characters, so this all may be intentional.

A bigger problem is when Page decides to draw exaggerated reactions. Eyes and mouths expand to literally escape the confines of a character’s face, as if they were a superdeformed anime character. This is to be expected for a manga, but in a comic where people look like B.D. and Boopsie this looks downright bizarre.

The comic itself is primarily about two roommates, Jane and Katt, and their freshman year experiences at St. Urho, a small Lutheran liberal arts college. (The name of the college my be a clue as to where Tyler Page is going with this. According to Wikipedia, St. Urho was fabricated by Finn-Americans in the late 1950′s to create something similar to the Irish St. Patrick. Or perhaps Page was trying to avoid litigation from the surviving families of real saints?) Jane comes from a fundamentalist Christian background, and as the story begins she casts a disapproving eye on several college practices, such as drinking and promiscuity. Katt is her opposite. She’s a wild, hedonistic atheist who drinks, smokes, and hot-tubs. While the two are antagonistic toward each other in the first few issues, they soon learn to tolerate each other and, later, appreciate each other’s company.

The two are joined by a fairly large cast of characters. Principle among these are Josey and Mike, two cool laid-back guys, as well as several students and teachers. Still, the story is centered around the two girls; we only see the other characters based on what they are experiencing. Tyler Page totally nails this aspect of the college experience. For example, Jane is aware that there are other residents in her dorm unit, yet she rarely see them (except at RA functions) and instead hangs around her own circle of friends.

(Back to the subject of my intro: Rebekah Nathan notices this effect, too. No matter how hard a dorm will try to bring together residents — like say, a “movie night” — nobody will come. That’s not because we’re isolated from each other or anything; it’s because we have our own communities.)

However, this focus on the main circle of friends is to the detriment of the other characters. For example, there’s one character introduced early in the series who tries to bring Jane into a student prayer group. At first, he seems to be the only person Jane can relate to, but after he tries to move in on her, Jane tries to ignore him and the Bible study group. And then … he sorta disappears. I understand that the focus is on Jane and Katt’s buddies, but wiping out the existence of the Christian kid almost makes his part in the storyline inconsequential. He’s not the only one, either. The entire group of girls in Jane and Katt’s unit, painstakingly introduced in the initial issue, become barely one-dimensional characters. And yet, we’re supposed to care about them in later storylines? Shenanigans!

“Nothing Better” suffers from a painfully clunky first issue. He introduces far too many characters with the most obvious exposition possible. Page exposes his geeky tendencies through a few of the characters — such as one kid who’s obsessed with the movie “Iron Giant.” He doesn’t let up in later issues, either. During a Halloween party, characters dress in obscure outfits that I’ve never seen at a college campus. (Honestly, I thought most college costumes were toga based. Cheaper that way.) Granted, this may be just a fun diversion for the readers, but it jarred me from what had generally been a realistic depiction of college life.

After the first issue, though, a theme begins to emerge. Nothing Better is about beliefs. We get an inkling when Jane and Katt end up in the same religious studies course and are forced to confront, head on, tough questions about the meaning of life. Katt’s dilemma is the most obvious; she does not believe in the existence of God, and yet — at a Lutheran school — she’s surrounded by believers, even if some make a mystical, New Age-y connection. As someone who thinks she has no beliefs, and thus nothing to lose, Katt asks the most questions … curious why so many people around her can believe in something that makes no rational sense.

Jane, on the other hand, becomes more defensive. As a guy who spent a lot of time in Christians In Action at college, I can relate. Katt comes to her with fairly deep questions, and Jane has no answers. She believes in the existence of God, but doesn’t know how much of the Bible she can believe. Bit by bit, she abandons the tenets of her Puritanical upbringing as she integrates into the college life.

I’ve gotta had it to Tyler Page: lesser writers would have painted at least one of the girls as an insufferable know-it-all. Instead, both girls are in a state of spiritual turmoil, and neither has all the answers.

Less successful are the long stretches of dialogue which feel like extended essays on belief. In a way, they remind me of ancient dialogues like Plato’s Gorgias or the book of Job, where a circle of friends do nothing but discuss philosophy. In “Nothing Better,” they lead to long stretches of text where characters stand around and look serious a lot. In a way, it’s refreshing to read a comic where the author takes beliefs seriously. In another way, though, it tends to slow the plot to a crawl and at times seems to be shoehorned in the most awkward, inappropriate places.

Sometimes the dialogue got so ridiculously forced and maudlin that I expected every issue to end with either Jane or Katt, with pleading eyes to the night sky, muttering, “I don’t know what I believe in.” With a tiny, tiny font, of course … because they’re whispering.

Where is Tyler Page headed will all of this? The portrayals of a personal spiritual journey are genuine. So I expect that, in the end, both girls will come to the conclusion to know what the right answer really is. If that’s going to be the case — and nothing in the comic so far leads me to believe that the solution will be otherwise — then this might be a long, convoluted journey to get to an answer that everyone knows in the end, right?

So while I’m glad that “Nothing Better” exists, and while I think it captures the experience of college particularly well, I feel that it’s a little flawed artistically and narratively. It may, in fact, reflect college a bit too closely. If I remember my college years correctly, it was days of routine punctuated by a few barely spectacular events. Maybe that’s why movies try to punch up the collegiate myth that it’s a world of nonstop sex and partying, which I suspect is an advertising push by the big name universities. How do you hype the reality of questioned beliefs and the road toward maturity?

By the way, for the most part the comic maintains a pleasant, disarming demeanor. In fact, it’s such a squeaky-clean series that it’s actually pretty shocking when you see one of the characters swear. So you can imagine that it’s rather shocking when Tyler Page treats us to an illustration of Jane’s boobies (link NSFW, like I need to tell you). I guess I should have seen it coming since Tyler Page wasn’t too shy to illustrate us previous instances of fanservice, and overall “Nothing Better” is your run-of-the-mill slice-of-life indie comic. And the nudity actually made sense plotwise. Still, it managed to catch me unguarded. I mean, the comic is a rather sweet series that’s primarily concerned about God. Was I really supposed to watch out for frontal nudity?

Needless to say, I had to clear the cache on my work computer the moment that page popped up.

I guess if I continue reading the series and I accidentally run across a scene depicting hardcore sex, then I have no one but myself to blame.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, y’all!

Rating: 3 stars (out of 5)